Me and the Minibar
by Dancing Kitsune
Summary: Please come down to my room at 10, it'd mean the world to me... I told him. But he was an hour late already... He wasn't coming.
1. Chapter One: Kaoru

_**!!!EDIT!!! I changed around the end of the chapter because I noticed that I messed up on the present-tense and the first-person point-of-view that I was trying to capture so hardly in this. I hope it's a smoother read at the end now.**_

Disclaimer: Ouran High Host Club belongs to Bisco-san, while Me & The Minibar belongs to The Dresden Dolls (GO LISTEN TO IT!!!)

Warning: Boy-love, as usual, but it's one-sided in this….Oh, and character death….Which is also a given when talking about my fics haha

_PS: Constructive criticism and even flames would be greatly appreceated :D_

-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-

I sit on the bed in the hotel room below yours, waiting for you to come down like I had asked you to. I know that it's the night before your wedding, and that you were having a party up there when I asked you to, but… But it was important, and I told you that too.

"_Please come to my room at 10, brother, it'll mean the world to me…"_ I told you before I left. A short, quick whisper into your ear, and that was it. You looked at me, questioning, but I didn't say anything else as I left. It was probably bothering you that you couldn't tell what was going through my head.

But then again, how long has it been since you could tell what I was thinking? _'Since she came into the picture, right?'_ I thought to myself, bitterly.

I look over to the table where two dinners are sitting, cold and untouched. I was waiting for you to eat with me. I ordered them around ten minutes before you were meant to come, and they arrived just in time for you not to be on time.

Or better yet, they came in your place, because you haven't showed up at all. It's 11 already, too. You're an hour late, that's not like you. Being the older one, you were always the one who never really seemed to, but was very keen on never being late to anything.

I sigh, shake my head a bit, and get up off the bed. I go over to the fridge and open it to see a bunch of bottles of hard liquor in it. In all honesty, I'm not that much of a fan of any type of alcohol, so I didn't give much of a say in it when Kyoya asked me what I would "like to have".

I just told him that I wanted something that would get me pretty damned smashed, pretty damned quick. He understood what I meant by it, and he understood why I needed it. He was the only one, really. Makes some sense, seeing how he's "mother" and all. I laugh a little at the little joke from our school days…

But he knows that there's nothing in this world that's harder to do than for me to be up there tomorrow, standing next to my dear brother as his best man while he watches _her_ with that look, the one that he should be looking at me with.

Only Kyoya knows, so he didn't see any problem with getting me such hard liquor.

I place one of the bottles onto the top of the small fridge and reach over to the stack of wrapped, plastic cups. I take a couple ice cubes and re-grab the bottle and start to wander over to the table with the forgotten food, musing on how a younger me would be scoffing at all of the "commoner" things that I had encountered within that last couple of minutes.

I sit down in one of the chairs and place the bottle onto the table and concentrate on unwrapping the glass cup for the moment. When I finish with that I unscrew the cap off of the liquor and fill the cup up three-fourths the way, then plop the cubes into it.

I take a sip; it's very bitter and actually has quite a nasty taste all together, but after another few sips I sighed, picked the ice cubes out, and tossed them into the plate of cold food in front of me. I take a few breaths to ready myself, then I down the whole damned glass of clear, liquid vile. It feels like my throat burns on the way down, but I don't really care.

After my third glass, I can really start to feel the difference. I can't tell if that's the normal reaction or if it was just me being a poor drinker, but it doesn't matter as I unbutton the top four or five on my white dress shirt. My head's spinning and the room is way hotter, way stuffier than it was before.

For some reason, I suddenly remember all the times when he had told me that he loved, me that he couldn't live without me, that the world would mean nothing without me… I shake my head; those days were over. It wasn't anything but a phase for him. He grew up, he grew out; I got left behind though. It wasn't a phase for me, I did love him, and I still do…

I turn to look at the microwave behind me to see that it's already half past 11. He wasn't coming; it was obvious to me now for some reason. (Was it because of the alcohol? Yet again it was another thing where I couldn't tell.)

I tilt my head up, as if looking at the ceiling would let me hear the room above me clearer, and I can still hear them all having careless fun up there. I can hear people running, laughing, crashing, a thud, and even more laughing. They were having the time of their lives up there, and they had no idea. Not even "mom". Maybe he doesn't understand me quite as much as I thought he did.

If they only knew… They would all be disgusted with me. They'd hate me for feeling the way I felt, and they'll hate me for wanting to do what I was going to do.

I stand up and walk over to the bureau over by the bed and open the top drawer. I rummage through it for a few minutes, when my fingertips touch something cold. I wrap my fingers around it and pull it out. A simple, plain-old hand gun. Boring-- yet perfectly appropriate.

He was going to go far in life, and he was so far ahead of me. I was so far behind, and I couldn't ever even dream to catch up without his help- that of which I'm no longer entitled to ask for. Its_ her's_ to ask for now, and they sure were going to get far with each other.

Just thinking about it makes me want to puke.

I check the bullets- or bullet, rather, just in case there really is some lunatic out there who thinks that they have the right to be damned with me. I look at the clock on the microwave again, it's five after twelve.

I take a seat at the foot of the bed and sigh, noticing that my shirt was gone. When did I take that off? Oh well. I start to hum that strange, American birthday tune, and when I got to the near-end, I instead call out my own little amused, yet depressed, announcement in a sing-song voice.

"Happy birthday, us…" And with that, I raise the gun to the temple of my head with my right hand. I look out of the corner of my eye to my doorway to see you standing there with the door wide open behind you. You look terrified, and I see you push someone who's behind you gently, as if trying to hide them.

"What's wrong, Hikaru-kun?" is all I need to hear to know just who is there. You know that I don't like her, that must be why you were trying to hide her. And to think that for a second I had hoped that I had simply imagined you lovingly trying to protect someone.

I grin and turn so that I'm facing you completely. I can hear the others coming from down the hall. You say my name cautiously; my arms are hanging limply by my sides. You takes a step toward me; I fling my arms open wide as if to welcome you and fifteen other people in for a hug, the gun still in my right hand. You flinch, your eyes flash between my face and the gun in my hand, then back again.

You're trying to find a way to get it away from me, aren't you…? How… _Stupid._ My smile softens into a sad, regretful one. My left arm goes lip and my right hand goes to my head. "Happy birthday… _us_…" I say, half-heartedly.

You're running toward me as I pull the trigger, there's a loud bang and a scream.

_And then there was nothing._

-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-h-k-

DK: I know that I should have been writing A Boy's Life, and not this silly one-shot (with possible hopes of a companion chapter if anyone is interested enough), but after reading Host Club, seeing Kaoru and Hikaru's relationship, and listening to "Me & The Minibar" by The Dresden Dolls one too many times, I couldn't help myself hehe ::sweatdrop::

Please review : )


	2. Hikaru

By surprisingly popular demand, a second chapter to Me and the Minibar. This chapter is basically the other point of view for the first chapter. I plan on writing a third for what happens afterward, but seeing how I have school in only a few hours I plan on sleeping hahaha… 

Without Karou in the room, it didn't matter that all of my friends were here. We all had somehow managed to keep in touch throughout the years, so it only seemed right that they were all invited to our wedding.

Me and Haruhi's wedding. It felt so wrong.

It was what everyone wanted me to do, not what I had wanted.

It started with small yet very painful things. Spread out the small world that I lived in, do things that would set me and Karou apart from each other, become my own person.

Then those little things became more serious. Date Haruhi because she likes you, spend less time with Karou because it was strange, stop doing the 'brotherly love' act because it was too convincing.

It hurt to do these things. And it hurt even worse, even stronger and deeper when Karou, of all people, would smile and agree with them all that I should do that kind of stuff. Wasn't our small world good enough? I had asked myself that far too many times while I was forcing myself to change for everyone.

Now I was changed on the outside so much, it was frightening. And yet Karou was still the same.

Karou never did things that he hadn't done before, Karou didn't start dating people, Karou would still try to be around me as much as he could when circumstances would permit it. Nothing about him was different.

Well, except the fact that he has become withdrawn lately. Ever since I purposed to Haruhi (yet again, another thing that everyone pushed onto me), he stopped making effort to do anything really. He kept up with his job at the hospital as a nurse, and kept up with his monthly rent at his apartment, but that was about it.

If it weren't for the fact that I lived in the apartment right next door to him, and worked at the same exact hospital, and knew his other neighbor, I would have thought he was going out to places with other people. But no, all he ever did was go to work, and almost minutes after his shift would end he would already be walking back through his front door, only to leave when the next shift came around.

Now it was months later; me and Haruhi are to be married tomorrow morning. I honestly wanted Karou there so that, if anyone, at least he would object when the 'speak now' part came along. Despite my seemingly headstrong persona that I had adapted, I was quite the coward when it came down to these sorts of things.

The words smashed into my mind like a car crash. I jolt up, spilling my drink all over the very drunk Tamaki, who had been sitting there next to me for who knows how long, blabbering away the time while I was thinking to myself.

I barely even notice his drunken shouts and the worried looks from Kyouya and Mori as I rushed into the other room to see the clock. "SHIT!" I shout, nearly tripping over Hunni and Haruhi, both of which had been sitting on the floor playing a card game, as I made a rush to the door.

It was already midnight. When did it get this late?

I run though the hallway to the stairwell, throwing open the doors. I can hear everyone else chasing after me in a drunken fashion. I threw the doors to the floor below mine open after jetting up the stairwell and run to the room directly below mine.

Karou was just beyond this door, all I had to do was open it.

Did I want to open it?

Was Karou only going to tell me that he wanted to wish me good luck? Or even worse, drop out of the wedding all together?

I wouldn't be able to bear him not being there for me tomorrow. I need his silent strength to help me through something I never wanted to do in the first place.

How I wished it was Karou instead of Haruhi…

Taking a deep breath, I place my hand onto the door knob. I can feel Haruhi's hand resting on my shoulder, giving me her strength. She knew what I was going through, and not only because I had told her, but because she was going through it as well.

I wasn't the only one who was unintentionally forced into agreeing to this marriage. What Haruhi wouldn't give to be holding her maid of honor's hand tomorrow instead of my own.

Taking another deep breath, I open the door. There you are, shirt missing and a drunken glaze to your eyes. You right arm is away from me, but I can see the gleam from whatever your holding as your arm falls limp. I push Haruhi behind me as subtly as I can, but both you and she notice.

"What's wrong, Hikaru-kun?" Haruhi whispers to me, but due to the eerie silence of it all, she might as well have shouted. I see your eyes grow cold at the very sound of her voice

'Dear god,' My eyes widen in fear, 'You wouldn't.' I think to myself as my heart nearly stops when you drunkenly twirl yourself to face me, arms held out wide. I flinch involuntarily, my gaze shifting between your hand and your face. The look your face held was that of pure carelessness and bliss because of what was most likely liquor.

I can see the wheels turning in your eyes and I feel my very insides grow cold as your left arm goes limp while your right raises the gun back to your temple. I run over towards you, praying I'll make it.

"Happy birthday… us…" you whisper to the room.

As if it's all in slow motion, and as if it wasn't even happening to me, I can hear myself shouting for you to not do it, that I love you. I can hear Haruhi scream at the sight of the gun to your head.

And you just stand there. Smiling.

Pulling the trigger, dieing before my very eyes.

Your body gets so limp as the bullet's speed smashes through you, pushing you over and letting you fall with a 'thud' to the cold, unfeeling ground.

I reach you, pulling you into my lap. You body is still warm as if you were alive, but the unnaturally wide blacks of your eyes tell me that you're everything but. There's blood flowing out of both sides of your precious head, falling and staining the ground with it's vicious vibrancy.

I can feel myself trembling and rocking myself back and forth as I pet your whitening face. My hand shook so violently that I had to press it to your face something hard, just to feel your fading warmth.

My god, how far we've fallen…


End file.
